Hogwarts & The Tracy Brothers
by ValiantHunter
Summary: The Tracy Brothers are at Hogwarts and it's Alan's first year, but how will they cope with their father's disappearance? And who is the strange bald man with his sights set on the wizarding school? Thunderbirds Movie-Verse, but with hints of TAG. Rated T to be safe.
1. The Journey to Hogwarts

"Alan, goddamnit, calm down,"

"Scott, language," hissed their grandmother from the front of the car.

"Sorry, Scotty, I'm just so excited!" the blond Tracy squealed.

The whole Tracy family were on their way to King's Cross Station in London. John was driving, Grandma Tracy was in the passenger seat, Alan was squashed between Scott and Virgil in the back, and Gordon was sat uncomfortably in the boot seat.

You see, the Tracy Family were not ordinary people. They had a special talent, what the ordinary human would call _magic._ There were many others like them in the world, from all races and religions, for it is an _ancient_ power, that arises when one least expects it. Many, many years ago, four friends built a castle in the Scottish Highlands, to teach young students with this magical ability to control and harness their magic. They gave it a name: Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Four of the five Tracy brothers had been to this school, and now it was Alan's turn to embark on his journey to the castle.

A white Volvo XC90 pulled up at King's Cross station, and the family got out. John clicked the boot open and pulled out five trunks, handing the blue one to Scott, the emerald-green one to Virgil, a bright yellow one to Gordon, a crimson one to Alan, and picked the final orange one up for himself. Scott grabbed a trolley for everyone, and they dumped their possessions into it.

"How do we get onto the platform?" asked Alan eagerly.

"Not here!" Scott hissed at him as they pushed their trolleys onto the platform. Heads turned as they passed, as it was a fairly odd sight to see a family of six with five brightly-coloured trunks and two hooting owls walking along the station.

"I'll go first," said Gordon brightly, jumping at the chance to impress his younger brother.

Alan watched in amazement as his immediate elder brother ran strait at the stone pillar between platforms Nine and Ten, and was seemingly absorbed into the stone. Virgil pulled his trunk forwards and copied Gordon, vanishing as he hit the stone. After Scott had vanished, Grandma Tracy turned to her two remaining grandsons.

"Do you want a moment?" she asked, and John nodded. Their grey-haired grandmother walked through the barrier and John turned to his youngest sibling.

"Are you okay?" the fair blond boy said to Alan, who nodded.

"Do you want to go together?"

Alan nodded.

"Wait here." John disappeared through the barrier and returned without his trolley. He put his arm round Alan's shoulder, and the two of them stepped through the magical gateway. It was curious sensation; he felt like he was stepping through a waterfall, though remaining very dry. He felt smoke in his lungs as he stepped onto Platform 9 & ¾, and saw a glistening scarlet steam engine with the words ' _Hogwarts Express'_ emblazoned along the side in gold. His other brothers were still standing patiently by the gateway, waiting for him. Grandma Tracy pulled him into a tight hug, and whispered in his ear,

"I know it's been hard without your father, but you'll be fine. You're brothers will look after you."

Alan broke away as Grandma hugged her other grandchildren in turn. Turning to Scott and John, she said, "Make sure you'll look after him."

"I'll send you a Hogwarts Toilet Seat!" Shouted Gordon, leaping onto the train, his jet-black hair shining in the sun.

"You will do no such thing!" yelled back their grandmother. Trunks were handed to Scott and John, who shoved them onto the train, and climbed on. Virgil spoke quickly to his grandmother.

"Be careful, grandma."

"You too, Virgil."

The brown-haired Tracy clambered aboard the train after his brothers as the guard blew his whistle and the scarlet engine puffed away from the station.

Virgil found his brothers settled into a compartment and slipped in next to them.

"Hi, Virgil."

He sat down next to Gordon, who was chatting animatedly to Alan about the houses. _Again._

"There's Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Huffle…" began Alan.

"Huffle _puff,"_ continued Gordon, "And Slytherin."

"How do they decide who goes in the houses?"

"Well, there's all sorts of things, you have to fight trolls, wrestle bears, make a teacup tap-dance…"

"Gordon," said John warningly, for Alan came over quite pale and looked scared, "No, Alan, you don't have to do any of that. You just have to try on an old hat."

Gordon looked disgruntled as John ruined his joke. He sat in silence while John continued the explanation of the houses.

"Gryffindors are usually brave and chivalrous people, Ravenclaws are the clever and witty ones, Hufflepuffs are loyal and kind, and the Slytherins, well, they're not all the best of people. They're cunning and sly, and mostly all pure blood."

"Where do you think I'll go?" asked Alan with trepidation.

"I don't know," said John, with a smile, "Maybe, _Hufflepuff?"_

"But you're all in Gryffindor, so I can't be in another house!" Alan realised in delight.

"Not true," replied Scott, "Siblings _can_ be sorted into different houses, although it is quite rare."

"It took that old hat about a second to decide what house I was in," said Virgil.

"Yeah, same here," replied Scott and Gordon together, "What about you, John?"

"About five minutes," and when the others looked at him in disbelief, "No, seriously. It kept considering putting me in Ravenclaw, but changed its mind."

"Hell!" exclaimed Scott, jumping up, "John, we need to go!"

John stared at him for a moment, then dropped his book, jumping up too. They pulled on their school robes, which were lined with scarlet. John's had a badge pinned above the left breast, red, with the letters ' _HB'_ on it, for Head Boy. Scott's robes had two badges, both red; one with a glistening silver ' _P'_ for Prefect, and one with a golden ' _C'_ on it, symbolising Quidditch Captain. They rushed out the glass door and down the train corridor to the Prefect Compartment. Virgil picked up John's book and surprisingly, carried on reading it, for it was about the History of Magical Art. Gordon and Alan plotted pranks for a while, and brought a multitude of sweets when the food trolley came round.

"What's this?" asked Alan, picking up a purple and gold pentagonal sweet.

"Chocolate Frog," replied Gordon, not taking his eyes off the Every-Flavour Beans he was unwrapping.

Alan pulled open the wrapper and was surprised to find a _living_ chocolate frog, which, the second the top was opened, hopped out and onto the window. Alan grabbed it and bit off its chocolate head, and it wriggled its legs in the air for a few moments, then dropped, lifeless.

"Want one?" Gordon asked.

"What are they?"

"Every-Flavour Beans. They mean _every_ flavour."

He tossed his younger brother a couple of beans, and Alan bit into one, crying out in disgust.

"It's cauliflower!"

Gordon ate a bean, and sat with a puzzled expression.

"What is it?" asked Alan, "What flavour?"

"I think it might be _grass._ I've had worse. There's a vomit-flavour one."

After hearing that, Alan pushed the bag of beans back towards Gordon. A magical voice swept through the train.

"We will be arriving at Hogwarts shortly, please change into your school robes and leave your trunks here. They will be brought to the castle shortly after your arrival."

The three brothers pulled on their school robes; Virgil's and Gordon's were lined with scarlet, like John's and Scott's, but Alan's were lined with black, as he had not yet been sorted into a house. It was nearly nightfall when the train pulled into a small station in the village of Hogsmeade. The three brothers stepped off the train and into the cool night air. Virgil and Gordon walked towards a series of horseless carriages; Alan made to follow, but Virgil grabbed his arm and spun him round.

"Over there," he pointed to where a kindly-looking grey-haired man with a slightly Asian sounding voice was calling, "First Years, over here! This way!"

Alan shot his brothers a disappointed look and set off towards the man holding a glowing lantern. A knot of other nervous-looking first years were gathered around the man, and he led them down to a wooden boathouse, where there were many boats moored up, big enough to hold about three or four people. They clambered into the boats, and the man, who was in the front boat alone, shouted, "Forward!"

Alan gasped in amazement as the boats untied themselves and started to move out of the boathouse. One of the boys in the boat with him sniggered.

"What's the matter? Never seen magic before, you filthy mudblood."

Alan lunged forward suddenly with a growl, and the boat toppled precariously. The girl at the front turned and Alan saw she was very pretty, with long dark hair, and brown eyes.

"Unless you two want to end up in the lake, I suggest you shut it."

The other boy immediately silenced, but kept throwing Alan dirty looks. He gasped again, but this time, no-one criticised him, as they had just rounded a bend, and saw, for the first time, Hogwarts Castle. Virgil had painted Alan pictures, of course, but nothing compared to seeing it in the flesh. He could see the many lights in the castle, and it was beautiful, silhouetted against the moon.

"Mind your heads!" called the man in the front boat, and Alan ducked just in time. They had just passed into a low passage at in the cliff the castle stood upon, and into an underground harbour. The man climbed out of his boat, and waved a gnarled staff in the air, and the boats tied themselves to the posts. Alan and the other first years got out, and followed the man up a stone passage, and they came out in front of the great oaken front doors. The man raised his staff, and rapped six times on the door.


	2. The Sorting Ceremony

The doors swung inwards, and a short Indian man wearing brown robes and a pair of blue glasses addressed the other man.

"Kyrano, t-thank you. I shall t-take them from h-here."

He gestured for them to come in, and shut the doors behind them.

"W-wait here," he stuttered, "When the d-doors open, come i-in and form an orderly l-line."

He slipped through another pair of doors, equally as large as the ones they had just walked through. The first-years could hear murmuring from behind the doors, and Alan suspected the other students watched them being sorted into their houses. The pretty girl from the boat, Alan noticed, was standing in a corner, alone. He made up his mind to go and speak to her, but just as he took his first step, the doors opened, and they stepped into the hall.

It was huge, and the ceiling looked transparent, though John had told Alan this was only a spell, and it mirrored the sky outside. Hundreds of thousands of candles floated above the tables, illuminating the hall. Four very long tables were placed in centre, and above each hung a banner. There was a lion, on a background of gold and red; A snake, on a background of silver and green; A badger, on a background of black and yellow; and an eagle, on a background of bronze and blue. A fifth table was placed at the head of the hall, facing the students, and the teachers sat here. Alan recognised the Headmistress, Professor Casey, as she was a good friend of his father, and the two used discussed business a lot, before Jeff's disappearance.

The Indian man stood in front of the staff table, holding a very dirty old hat on a stool.

"When I c-call your names, you will e-each sit down on the s-stool and the Sorting Hat will be p-placed upon your head."

He picked up a scroll and began to read the names of various students.

"Anderson, Gerald!"

A boy with black hair sauntered up to the stool, the hat was placed upon his head, and a rip near the brim opened wide and shouted, "Ravenclaw!"

Alan saw the table with blue-lined robes clapping as the boy walked over to their table, smiling. This continued for what seemed like an age, but something made Alan's head look up.

"Kyrano, Tanusha!"

The girl from the boat stepped forwards, and almost immediately after the hat touched her silky black hair, it shouted, "Slytherin!"

She joined the green table, her face blank and expressionless. Finally, they reached the ' _T'_ section.

"T-Tracy, Alan!"

Alan practically ran up to the stool, and sat down so fast, he slipped off. He could feel his face burning red as he heard the laughs of the other students, but the teacher calling the names gave a kindly smile and helped him up. The Hat almost obscured his vision entirely and he heard a tiny little voice, not unlike the one that constantly nagged him for doing something wrong.

"Hm…another Tracy…what shall I do with you? You show many qualities: bravery, cleverness, cunning and loyalty, but you want to follow in your father's footsteps, so, I guess, Gryffindor!"

Alan heard the hat shout the last word aloud to the hall, and it was whisked off his head. He made his way over to the table with red-lined robes, who were all clapping vigorously. He settled himself between Scott and Virgil, opposite Gordon and John. The table was lined with golden plates and goblets, but no food, to Alan's disappointment.

"Where's the-?"

John shushed him and pointed towards the staff table. Headmistress Casey had stood up, ready to make an announcement.

"To all our new students, welcome! To all our old students, welcome _back!_ I trust this will be another splendid year. Mr Kyrano, the caretaker, has asked me to inform you all that the Forbidden Forest is still out of bounds, unless in a fourth-year or above lesson. And that _does_ include you, Gordon Tracy." she added, smiling, "So, I shall say no more, except, _bon appetit!"_

Alan watched in amazement as even more golden plates appeared on the table, filled with things such as salad, ham, chips, potatoes and much more, along with various glasses of water and other beverages. Alan piled a mountain of food onto his plate and began to eat ravenously like he hadn't been fed in days. He looked up, and saw Gordon, who, instead of eating, was staring at the Ravenclaw table.

"Uh, Johnny, what's up with Gordo?" Alan asked, partially concerned, "He's usually a human hoover for food."

John, Scott and Virgil all sighed in unison.

"He's staring at Penelope, _again,"_ John announced, more to Scott and Virgil than to Alan.

"Who's Penelope?"

John pointed behind Alan, and he turned around to see who his immediate older brother was staring at. He found her without hesitation. She was tall, possibly a bit more so that Gordon, with shoulder length blonde hair, darker than John's, but lighter than Alan's. She was actually quite good-looking, and Alan couldn't really blame Gordon for staring.

"This year," he murmured, "This year?"

"This year, _what?"_ Asked Virgil, with a grin on his face, "You'll finally make friends?"

Gordon jumped, and flushed a dark red, but only for a moment.

"No, I-er-I mean…this year, we'll finally win the Quidditch Cup."

"That's likely," said Virgil and John together. They didn't share the same enthusiasm in the wizarding sport Scott and Gordon did, preferring to paint or read, respectively, instead, but they did come along to the matches. Scott was Quidditch Captain for Gryffindor, a position he had been vying for since he joined the team in his second year. He played Chaser, and it was his job, along with two others, to score the main goals by throwing a large brown ball through one of three giant hoops. Gordon played as one of the two Beaters, and it was his job to keep the Bludgers, two bowling-ball sized balls from knocking his team off their brooms by hitting it with a bat. Alan seemed to be interested in the sport, and had been to many games with his brothers, and he knew, the moment he hit second year, he would try out for the team.

Once dinner had finished, the Headmistress announced it was time for bed, and there was a huge clattering of feet as everyone had gotten up.

"First-Years, follow me!" called John, whilst the two Prefects, Scott and a pretty brunette girl, shepherded them out of the hall. John led them upstairs to the seventh floor, and along a corridor which ended in a portrait of a very fat woman in a pink classical dress.

"Ah, John, dear, I see you have been made Head Boy," she said to the eldest Tracy brother, "Password?"

"Phosphorescence."

"Thank you," she smiled, and the portrait swung forwards to reveal a hole large enough to climb through, and that is what they did. It led to the Gryffindor Common Room, an octagonal room located in one of the highest towers of the castle. It was mostly stone, although the floor was covered in a red carpet. Handsome leather sofas and red velvet armchairs were placed round the room. John pointed to a staircase that split in two halfway up.

"Boys on the left, girls on the right. Oh, and boys, _don't_ try to enter the girls' dormitories, but it might be quite funny if you tried."

The students made their way up to their dormitories, and Alan found he was in a room with four other boys. His red trunk had been placed on his bed, which the name, _'Alan Tracy'_ had been etched into the wood at the foot of the bed.

"H-Hi," a voice said. Alan turned around to see a boy about his age, and looked a little Indian. Alan could guess this must be the stuttering teacher's son.

"Hi, I'm Alan Tracy," he replied.

"F-Fermat Hackenbacker," the boy stuttered, shaking hands with Alan, "My dad w-works here. He's the Potions M-master and Head of G-gryffindor."

"Cool," said Alan with a smile, "I've got four older brothers. John's the Head Boy, and Scott's the Prefect. Virgil prefers painting, and Gordon's a prankster."

"Gordon? Gordon T-Tracy? My dad m-mentions him all the time. He _is_ quite disruptive, isn't he?"

Alan laughed. He could tell they were going to get on well.

"You should see him when there's no teachers around, he's like a whirlwind!"

"What blood s-status are you?" Fermat asked. Alan looked a little taken aback.

"Sorry, I didn't m-mean it in an offensive way, I was just w-wondering."

Alan relaxed a bit. "Pure-Blood. Both my parents were magical. And both in Gryffindor. What about you?"

"I'm half and h-half," Fermat replied, "My dad is a w-wizard, he was in Gryffindor, but my m-mum's a muggle."

Just then, Scott stuck his head round the door.

"Lights out, no talking." he said, and disappeared. The candles in the oil lamps magically extinguished as Alan pulled off his robes and changed into his pyjamas. He lied back in bed.

'I think I'm gonna like it here,' he thought.


	3. Of Love & Quidditch

The next day, Gordon strutted into the Great Hall, trying to spike up his hair. Grabbing a plate of buttered toast, he went over to the Ravenclaw table and slid into a seat next to a very pretty blonde girl.

"Hey, Penelope," he said, grinning, and making his voice deeper that it actually was.

"Gordon, what do you want?"

"Toast?" he offered, holding up the plate.

"Thanks," she gave him a small smile and Gordon felt something erupt in his stomach.

"So I was thinking, you know, next Hogsmeade weekend, do you wanna…"

She interrupted him. "Gordon, look, you're a nice person and all, and I do like you, you're hilarious. But I just don't like you in that way, you see what I mean? So can you please stop trying to flirt with me, and just talk with me like a normal person."

Whatever had been dancing in Gordon's stomach tripped and fell down. Disgruntled, he made his way back to the Gryffindor table, where Scott was waiting for him.

"Hey, Gordo," said Scott, as Gordon sat down next to him, "Are you okay?"

Gordon only grunted, and with a slight smile, Scott said, "Did Penelope reject you? Again?" earning himself a punch on the shoulder.

"I didn't come here to be insulted, Scott."

"Really?" said Scott in disbelief, "Where do you usually go?"

Gordon sighed and turned to go, and Scott felt a tiny bit guilty.

"Wait, Gordon, I just wanted to tell you, Quidditch Tryouts are tonight, just before dinner!"

Gordon grunted and walked away.

'Stupid brothers,' he thought to himself, 'They don't know a thing about girls. Penelope has to fall for me. I mean, who doesn't?"

He click-winked at a group of third-year Hufflepuff girls, and they all blushed and walked away, giggling.

—

John sat at the back of the History of Magic classroom, barely listening to the professor drone on about the Second Wizarding War and some 'Dark Lord.' Instead, his mind kept wandering over towards the window, where a pretty, black-haired girl said, occasionally shooting him glances, and the odd smile.

"Tracy!"

John jumped and looked round.

"Yes sir?"

"Can you tell me who the greatest wizard of the 20th Century was?"

John feverishly flicked through his brain, panicking slightly, until he took a deep breath and said, "That'd be Albus Dumbledore, sir."

"Quite right, quite right. Now Albus Dumbledore was widely regarded as the greatest wizard of the 20th century, with many noble credits to his name, including the discovery of the 12 uses of dragon's blood, and…"

John zoned out again, still staring at the girl by the window. He hadn't realised how much time had passed, but suddenly the bell rang, and there was a loud clatter of chairs as everyone stood up, swung their bags over their shoulders, and left. He caught up with the girl halfway down the large marble staircase.

"Hi," he said, blushing slightly red.

"Hey," she replied, "You're John, right?"

He nodded, so absorbed in her beautiful Welsh accent that he almost forgot to reply.

"I'm Sophie," she said to him,

"Yeah. You're in Gryffindor," he said, pointing to the red and gold tie under her jumper.

"You seem surprised," she said, smiling.

"Yeah, I've just never seen you much before."

She smiled at him again, "I'll see you around."

She set off down the marble staircase, and John stood stock-still for a moment, until something flared inside him.

"Wait up!"

He practically slid down the stairs to catch up with Sophie, and nearly tripped over his own feet.

"Do you…er…want to come to Hogsmeade with me next um…next time?" he asked hopefully, and to his delight, she smiled widely again.

"Yeah, sure. I'd love to," she grinned at him, and walked off again.

Feeling very pleased with himself, he set off towards his next lesson, smiling broadly.

—

"Wingardium Leviosa!" cried Professor Cook swishing his wand, and the feather laying on a pile of books took flight as if caught by a sudden gust of wind. Everyone in the First-Year Charms Class clapped.

"Now, if you will all get into pairs…" Cook began, but there was a sudden burst of moment as everyone switched seats. Alan moved next to Fermat, and realised the only person without a parter was the pretty girl with dark skin and long black hair. He smiled at her and she sat down next to him.

"Hi, I'm Alan Tracy," he said, extending his hand.

"Tanusha Kyrano," she replied, shaking hands, "But most people just call me Kayo."

"As in knockout? Why?" Alan asked.

"Do you really want to find out?" she said grimly, then smiled, "It's great here, isn't it. Takes all the pressure off life."

"Yeah," breathed Alan, only half-listening. He had never met anyone so beautiful in his entire life. Glancing sideways at Kayo, he tried to imagine what it would be like to kiss her. Being only eleven, he had never kissed a girl before, and drifted away in his fantasies until Fermat poked him in the chest with his wand.

"Hey!" he said, "I've done it five times in a row now, you have a go!"

Alan raised his wand, desperate to impress Kayo, and practically yelled the words, "Wingardioom Leviosum!"

The feather, instead of lifting into the air like it should, rolled up into a ball and somehow imploded. Kayo burst out laughing.

"You do it like this!" she said, in between breaths. She held out her own wand, flicked it through the air, and said clearly, "Wingardium Leviosa!"

The feather soared up in the air, span around, and came to rest on the crumpled remains of Alan's dismal attempt. She cocked one leg over the other, smiled smugly for a moment, and rested her hands in her lap.

Alan couldn't help feeling impressed with this girl. There was only one problem. She was in Slytherin. Alan had heard all about the house from his brothers, how it apparently used to produce the most dark witches and wizards during the first two Wizarding Wars. That time was over now, but even so, a lot of former Slytherins still turned out to be fairly dodgy. Now, Alan was prepared to disregard all that in a heartbeat, after meeting Kayo, but he did not like to imagine of what his brothers would think of him making friends with a Slytherin girl. He pushed that thought out of his mind, and raised his wand once more, determined to be successful the second time.

—

"Oh, god." Cursed Scott, as he stood in the middle of the muddy Quidditch Pitch adjacent to the school. He _had_ felt confident this year about winning the cup for Gryffindor, which hadn't happened since his elder brother John was in first year. Last year they came second, only just beaten by Slytherin by 10 points. ' _This year we'll do it. This year,'_ Scott told himself, but as the trials wore on, he began to feel dread overcome him. He had managed to arrange them into seven groups, but that was the best they managed. Group One were terrible, as one second-year managed to mistake a bludger for a quaffle. Group Two were okay, but not the best. Group Three were probably the best, but even that was an overstatement, for the only thing that managed to hold the team together was Gordon, knocking incoming bludgers away left, right and centre. Group Four were a mixture of confused Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws, Group Five were a gang of girls who didn't even have Quidditch robes, and one girl was on the verge of tears when her skirt and tights were stained with mud. Group Six were all third-year boys, who didn't listen to a word Scott said, and were shouted off the pitch, cheerfully yelling swear words as they went, and Group Seven were downright awful: no-one could fly properly, a short-sighted fourth-year accidentally concussed a fifth year girl with his beater's bat, and the seeker could barely catch the quaffle, let alone the golden snitch.

"Well, um…" Scott began, as the last group 'landed' and assembled in front of him. Most had black eyes and bruises, one had what appeared to be a dislocated shoulder, a couple had insects caught in their hair, the girls without Quidditch robes were covered in mud, one girl's tights had ripped badly and her legs were stained with blood, a fairly-good looking sixth-year girl stood shivering in just her white shirt and black skirt, as her jumper and robes had been practically torn apart by the gale-force winds, and the minority that remained unscathed glared at Scott ruefully.

"Good…practice," Scott said, sweeping his damp brown hair out of his eyes, "All meet here next week, same time, and I should have the…um…results."

Some of the group mumbled goodbye, most turned away without a word, the girl that had been covered in mud from Scott's emergency landing swept her now-brown hair over her shoulder and swore at him, and a big burly beater try-out spat at his feet. Gordon elbowed his way to the front of the disembarking group and sighed at his big brother.

"Well done, Scotty," he said, smiling devilishly, "They all seemed to love you. Especially that girl at the end." He wolf-whistled mockingly.

"You know what, Gordo," Scott said, ignoring the black-haired prankster bobbing at his shoulder, "If you hadn't been on the team, I might've handed in my badge and threw my broom in the lake."

Gordon laughed, "You've got a bloody Firebolt IV, Scott! Hell, I'd kill for a Firebolt I, or even a Nimbus Two-Thousand!"

Scott was about to reply when he heard a shout coming from the ever-nearing castle doors.

"Hey, Scott, guess what!" yelled Virgil, rushing up to them, paint all over his robes and hands.

"What?" sighed Scott, "It better be good, I've had a long day."

"Johnny's got a girlfriend," Virgil grinned broadly. Gordon's face twisted into an evil smile.

"Excellent!"


End file.
